


Calisthenics with Words

by Tabithian



Series: Light the Path [36]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5761930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason can feel things going sideways on him the moment Dick's eyes meet his, and the idiot <i>smirks.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Calisthenics with Words

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous on Tumblr asked for DickTimJay, and there's [this post](http://tabithian.tumblr.com/post/135790190729), so. *hands*

Jason can feel things going sideways on him the moment Dick's eyes meet his, and the idiot _smirks._

“Don't - “

But Dick's already in motion, this smooth little move meant to draw the would-be muggers' attention to him in that expensive coat he picked from somewhere for this dumb case. Little turn of his wrist, streetlights catching on the watch he's wearing, worth enough on its own for these bottom feeders to make a pretty penny.

Only thing is, the would-be muggers don't take the bait, don't look away from Jason, don't look at the nice little shiny Dick's flaunting at them. That, and there's the way they were moving earlier, before the mouthy one took the lead in this little farce. The way they're holding themselves right now that speaks of training, military probably.

If they're lucky they're just facing a better breed of bottom dweller, if not, there's every chance their cover's been blow and this whole mission is a bust.

“Well,” Dick says, even as Jason's moving, playing his part as dutiful bodyguard, “this night took a _sharp_ turn.”

Jason rolls his eyes as he goes after the thug with the gun, tricky little bastard. Guy has some decent training, but Jason's is better, and he goes down without too much fuss.

There's a muffled noise of pain behind him, familiar in the worst way that has Jason turning to see Dick standing over the guy with the knife, hand clamped to his side and not looking all that great. 

Looking kind of stabbed, really.

“Jesus fuck,” Jason says, throat going tight, pressure in his chest as he goes to Dick. “You just couldn't help yourself, could you? Had to piss these idiots off, didn't you?”

Dick laughs, this stupid little huff of air as he holds still as Jason checks to see how badly he's hurt. 

Good news is, the body armor he had on under his clothes saved him from the worst of it, bad news is, he's a goddamn idiot.

“Christ,” Jason says, when he sees the extent of the damage, because it's not just the one stab wound, and oh, God, Tim is going to murder them so much when he finds out about this. “Dick, you _moron_.”

********

Tim shows up at the hospital in character looking polished and put together. Haughty, dismissive of the nursing staff who try to stop him from coming into Dick's hospital room.

Gives them this icy look, and says, “He's my _husband_ ,” that has them backing off fast.

Only one, the plucky one who's been giving Jason the stink-eye all night looks to Dick's doctor for confirmation first. And then she points wordlessly at Jason, who's followed Tim back into Dick's room.

Tim makes this little sound in his throat, could be disdain, could be something like a laugh, and says, snooty like all the worst socialites in Gotham, “Oh, he's like family, I'm sure there's no issue of letting him in here, is there?”

The look Tim gives her and the doctor makes it obvious there better not be one, so the doctor waves her out and pastes on a polite, if strained smile.

“Well,” the man says brightly, looking over Dick's chart. “It's certainly a record for amount of stab wounds!”

The fuck.

Tim clearly shares Jason's feelings on the matter because the doctor clears his throat and mumbles something about lightening the mood when Tim just looks at him.

There's a cough, and then, “Do I get a gold sticker for that?”

Jason watches Tim turn his head to look down at Dick, who has this loopy little smile on his face, clearly on the good stuff.

“Doctor - “

“I'll just be outside,” the doctor says, and scurries out.

Tim looks at Jason who nods, “Room's clear.”

And then Tim just.

Deflates, persona of an idle rich socialite dabbling in the buying and selling of government secrets falling away to reveal Tim.

Tired, worried for Dick and Jason, and just.

“You idiot,” Tim says, leaning forward to smooth hair out of Dick's eyes. “What were you thinking?”

Before Dick can answer, Tim's pinning Jason with one of the looks he must have picked up from Alfred. 

“What were either of you thinking?”

See, that's kind of the problem, really.

Tim sighs, taking up a spot in one of the chairs pulled up to Dick's bed. Arches an eyebrow at Jason who hesitates. 

“Jason,” Tim says, soft, quiet, hint of steel in his voice, “get over here.”

Dick, who's been watching the two of them with this comically serious look on his face huffs out a laugh.

“What if - “

“It's fine,” Tim says, mouth twitching faintly when Dick reaches for his hand. “Our cover is still intact, one of the other buyers just got a little. Hmm. Nervous, that we might outbid them.”

There's something in the way Tim phrases it, or maybe his tone of voice that tells Jason not to push, because.

This is a dangerous crowd they're running with right now, more so than their usual one. Strict rules. The kind where anyone stupid enough to act outside the guidelines set for this little auction taking place and get caught at it probably won't be around to cause them anymore trouble.

Not that Jason has a problem with that, really.

Hell, since they're the wronged party here, that might give them an edge when it comes time for the bidding to start.

Tim shrugs, lets Dick tug his hand close, running his thumb over Tim's knuckles like he needs the contact to focus through the haze of painkillers and whatever else they've got him hooked up to.

“Jason,” and that's Dick, voice just as soft as Tim's, big sad eyes and ridiculous pout that's a little lopsided and drooly.

And Jason.

God, he's _tired_.

It's been a long night, a long couple of weeks since the three of them took off on this magical mystery journey of international espionage and intrigue.

“Did you get looked at, or just loom threateningly until they left you alone?” Tim asks, when Jason pulls up another chair next to him.

Jason doesn't answer, because he's smart enough to know a trap when he sees one. 

Nothing's broken. Dented maybe, but he's not the idiot who couldn't let an opportunity for a bad pun go by. (Or decide trying to keep his cover was more important than _not_ getting stabbed. Christ, that's more Tim's style than Dick's anyway, and what the hell is wrong with these idiots?)

“Of course,” Tim mutters, looking him over. “Why am I not surprised?”

Dick laughs again, like Tim really has a leg to stand on here, and by the way Tim's scowling at them, he has to know it too.

“Just, shut up,” Tim mutters, leaning into Jason, hand not in Dick's finding one of Jason's. “Both of you, so stupid.” 

Jason snorts, gives Tim's had a little squeeze. “Yeah? Who's bright idea was it to shack up with us?”

Tim makes this little exasperated noise in the back of his throat, because really. 

It's more like Dick and Jason just moved into Tim's place over an embarrassingly long period of time, tag-teaming to get the little shit to eat and sleep and generally looking after himself. 

More and more of their stuff getting mixed in with Tim's, spending more time there than their own places or the manor and still not realizing what the hell they were doing until _Bruce_ called them on it.

Talk about most horrifying life experience there, although Bruce had looked like he thought he was having a aneurysm the whole time, so there's that.

“Speaking of,” Tim murmurs, because Dick's eyes are starting to droop. “You get to be the one to explain this to Bruce.”

Fuck.


End file.
